


Shattered Glass

by istanraven



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istanraven/pseuds/istanraven
Summary: Josephine finds Bellamy alone while everyone else is at the naming ceremony. She decides to have a little fun before following through with her father's plan.





	Shattered Glass

Josephine let out a breath as she made her way up the steps to the building the outsiders were staying in. She had to admit, she’d missed this, she’d missed living. 

Standing at the top of the steps she looked out at her home, a few stragglers ran into the hall where the naming ceremony was occurring but other than that it was empty, everyone attending the party, she felt the smile grow on her face. 

Her father had told her to search the outsiders things while they were distracted elsewhere to see if there was anything they could use against them. Once they’d figure out what they do here, there would surely be defiance. 

The girl sure had been defiant, she could still feel her subconscious trying to push its way back in, but Josephine was stronger, she’d had a lot of experience of course. 

She turned around, grabbing a hold of the handle before making her way inside of the dimly lit room. She turned on the light switch before freezing at the sudden realization that she wasn’t alone. 

A man sat on one of the stools lining the bar, a glass in his hand before he quickly looked up at her. She was met with dark eyes, noticing how they’d softened increasingly as his gaze fell upon her. He was handsome, she had to admit, with his curly dark hair and built, she couldn’t help the movement of her gaze across his body.

“Clarke?” He asked, before setting down the glass, turning towards her. “Shouldn’t you be at the naming ceremony?”

“Shouldn’t you?” She asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“Didn’t really feel like a party right now.” He said, turning back towards the bar, picking up the glass again before taking a drink.

“Neither do I.” She murmured, as she slowly walked over to him, her interest peaking. If she had any indication of what Clarke meant to him based on how he looked at her, she knew Clarke was important. This should be fun, she thought. 

He was silent for a moment as she sat down next to him, then without warning he looked back up at her, a look in his eyes that made the breath catch in her throat. “Octavia’s out there alone because of me. I left her out there to die, Clarke.” He said earnestly, his voice hitching slightly at saying Clarke’s name. “Maybe I have never changed, I’m always going to be a monster, thinking every horrible thing I do is right.” 

“You’re not a monster.” She stopped for a moment, realizing she didn’t even know his name. “Trust me.” 

He looked back down at the bar and the glass in his hand. She put a hand on his arm and he quickly looked at their contact before his gaze went back up to meet hers. His look sent chills up her spine and she was sure of it in that moment that this man loved Clarke. 

“You trust me, right?”

His brows furrowed for a moment as his gaze flickered across her face. “Yes.” He said firmly before hesitating for a moment. “I know it feels like I’m the only one that does right now. And I know you’ve done horrible things, Clarke, but so has everyone else, so have I. We’ve all done what needed to be done to survive, to protect our people.”

“I know.” She responded before looking up at him. “Surviving by whatever means necessary.” 

His gaze faltered for a moment and she’d realized she’d gotten lost in the conversation, bringing her own thoughts into it. “Doing whatever is necessary to protect the people we love.” She murmured, correcting herself.

His eyes flitted to her lips for a moment before he quickly turning back towards the bar, a muscle in his jaw clenching. Without another moment of hesitation, she stood up off the stool, holding his face in her hand as he turned to her with confusion written across his features. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his. 

She faltered for a moment as he remained still and she pulled away a fraction, looking down at his face to see a reaction. His dark eyes were wide as they stared back at her, his eyebrows creased as if he were in deep contemplation. 

She was confused more than disappointed, why would he look at Clarke like this after she’d kissed him, with the way he was talking to her and lookin at her before, she’d expected something more. 

Josephine began to step away from him but froze when she heard the sound of glass shattering. Her gaze flitted to the broken glass now lying on the floor, before she could even look back up at the man who’d been sitting on the stool a moment earlier, she felt rough fingers brush against her cheek before his lips were suddenly pressed roughly against hers, kissing her with so much passion and longing she felt as if her soul had left her body. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him with equal fervor. 

God, he was a good kisser. 

She felt one of his arms wrap around her waist before she found herself pushed up against the counter of the bar, his kisses traveling down her neck as she took the time to catch her breath. 

Suddenly he stopped, his hot breath still washing over the skin of her neck before he pulled away, looking down at her with a look in his eyes she could only describe as complete and utter dejection. 

Panic struck through her at the realization of her mistake, the scar where they’d put her chip into Clarke was still there and fresh, she’d easily let him see it and he clearly knew what it’d meant based on his reaction. 

“You’re not Clarke,” he murmured before taking a step away from her.

“What?” She asked quickly, taking a step closer to him. 

“Who the hell are you and what have you done to her?” Anger filled his eyes and his gaze burned through her. Panic started to set in at the realization of her being caught. She’d only wanted to have some fun, take advantage of the opportunities presented to her in this body, but she may be completely destroying her father’s plan. If this man knew of what they were doing he’d tell the others, their lives here will be ruined by these outsiders. She wasn’t going to let this get taken away from her, not now. 

“It’s me, It’s Clarke.” She replied earnestly. 

He hesitated for a moment, his face filled with concentration as he looked at her, trying to gage the reality of her statement. “Then tell me what you told me under that tree years ago, the other time I’d called myself a monster.” Her voice faltered for a moment as she thought of a response, she wasn’t ready for something like this. 

Her father had just briefed her on the basics, Clarke had a daughter, Madi, and had done many bad things that had earned her a lot of enemies even among her friends. Clearly not with this one though. 

“Well, I told you you weren’t of course.” She replied, unease settling in her as his gaze flitted across her face, his eyes hard and calculating. 

“What else?” He pressed.

“That I was the monster.” She replied, her heart quickly dropping as she was suddenly pushed up against the bar again, the man staring daggers at her.

“I’m going to ask you again, what the hell have you done to Clarke?” He said slowly, the fire in his eyes growing ever brighter. 

She let out a sigh before reaching back behind her with her free hand, grabbing a hold of the syringe her father had provided her in case of emergencies strapped to her thigh. “Don’t worry,” She said, a smile growing on her face, “Clarke’s not hurt, she’s just never coming back.” 

Then she pulling out her arm, stabbing the syringe straight into his neck. He gasped before his eyes widened, his hand reaching for his neck before he collapsed to the ground. She looked down at him before letting out a sigh, he’d be out for a few hours, she’d be able to get the information she needed and get out of there in time before anyone else returned from the ceremony. With the symptoms he’d forget everything that had happened that day, equating safety of exposition on their part. She bent down, brushing a few of the curly strands out of his eyes, a smile growing on her face. 

She wasn’t about to risk letting go of this body now, especially when she was just starting to have fun.


End file.
